


Breathe Again

by sunshineinthestorm



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Romance, set during Son of Neptune
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 01:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4688027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineinthestorm/pseuds/sunshineinthestorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A cry for help pierced the din of battle. As soon as Dakota heard the sound, he knew something unspeakably awful had just happened. He turned as the sound of metal-on-metal slowly faded into the background. It took maybe two seconds for him to process what he was seeing. Then he pushed his way through the ranks of legionnaires.</p><p>A girl was sprawled across the ground, a pilum through her stomach. Her hair had fallen across her face, but Dakota didn't need to see her features to know it was Gwen. His Gwen. The girl that had kept all their spirits up during the seemingly hopeless battle of Mount Orthrys. The girl that was always optimistic, no matter what the circumstances. The girl that was always ready with a smile and a laugh to cheer anyone up on their toughest days. The one girl Dakota knew that didn't mind working with him - that even enjoyed working with him. The most perfect girl in living memory, in Dakota's personal opinion (when he was sober enough to have personal opinions, that is). That girl was lying half-dead on the floor."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe Again

The war games were going perfectly, for once. Thanks to that new kid, Percy Jackson, the Fifth Cohort was winning for the first time since Jason Grace had become praetor. Dakota was so exhilarated, he had dropped his flask of Kool-Aid during the fight and didn't even mind. He was too busy screaming victory cries and injuring Octavian's uppity minions without a shred of guilt. Then he saw Hannibal and whooped with pure happiness. The elephant was carrying three excited demigods, but even more importantly, a banner was flapping around above his back! They had the flag! Percy, Frank, and Hazel - the three newest members of Camp Jupiter -  _had the flag_! The Fifth Cohort was about to earn the respect it deserved! Dakota cleared a path for the Kevlar-vested elephant and was about to follow him out of the fort when he remembered Gwen. Had she seen the banners? Did she know?

He turned and saw her, green eyes flashing with excitement, dark hair swinging as she spun to block a sword thrust and return it with one of her own. She looked at him and grinned. Before he could stop himself, Dakota wondered if maybe when the war games were officially over for the night, Gwen might agree to go order pizza in New Rome with him... Strictly as colleagues, of course.  _Yeah, just like Reyna and Jason were "colleagues",_ part of him thought - the crazy part that especially liked to come out when he'd had too much to drink (which was most of the time). The part that somehow believed that he had a chance with a girl as kind and beautiful as Gwen.

Dakota mentally shushed that part of his brain and thrust himself back into the fight to hide his embarrassment from Gwen. He fought for maybe half a minute before the cry for help pierced the din of the battle.

As soon as Dakota heard the sound, he knew something unspeakably awful had just happened. He turned as the sound of metal-on-metal slowly faded into the background. It took maybe two seconds for him to process what he was seeing. Then he pushed his way through the ranks of legionnaires.

A girl was sprawled across the ground, a  _pilum_  through her stomach. Her hair had fallen across her face, but Dakota didn't need to see her features to know it was Gwen.  _His_ Gwen. The girl that had kept all their spirits up during the seemingly hopeless battle of Mount Orthrys. The girl that was always optimistic, no matter what the circumstances. The girl that was always ready with a smile and a laugh to cheer anyone up on their toughest days. The one girl Dakota knew that didn't mind working with him - that even  _enjoyed_ working with him. The most perfect girl in living memory, in Dakota's personal opinion (when he was sober enough to  _have_  personal opinions, that is). That girl was lying half-dead on the floor.

It had taken two seconds for Dakota to process it because he simply didn't believe it was happening. He had momentarily convinced himself that she was a terrifying hallucination, brought on by _way_  too much Kool-Aid. But after two seconds, he knew it was true. His brain could never come up with something so painful.

After far too much time (about twelve seconds), Dakota reached his fellow centurion's side. Mackenzie, another member of his cohort, was already there. She was the one who had called for help. "Oh, gods," Dakota said as he knelt down. "How bad..." He trailed off as more blood leaked out around the spear. He didn't need to ask how bad she was. He could see it for himself. So he just repeated, "Oh, gods."

Mackenzie nodded tearfully. "I was standing next to her, and we were both so happy when we saw the banners being carried out. Then I turned away for just a second, and when I looked back..." She gestured wordlessly, tears forming in her eyes.

"Okay," Dakota said, trying to calm himself. Kool-Aid had set him on the verge of insanity before, but this was beyond that. This was cold terror. This was  _hysteria_. "Okay," he repeated. "Get a stretcher. Bring a medic. In the name of Jupiter, bring thirty medics. No, just bring a stretcher. We'll bring her out to the medics; it'll be faster."

Mackenzie nodded and ran off. Dakota grabbed Gwen's hand. It was cold - far too cold. "Stay with me, Gwen," he muttered. "I need you. Stay with me, or I swear to all the gods that I will use your full name."

Her eyes fluttered open. "Kota..." she whispered. She looked exhausted and pained.

"Shh, Gwen, save your breath," he pleaded. "You're going to be fine. Just relax. Breathe nice and slow, in... and out..." He repeated the mantra until her eyes closed and her breathing calmed. Dakota gripped her hand tighter and tried not to think about how weak her pulse was.  _Where in Pluto's name was Mackenzie?_

And then she was there, dragging a stretcher behind her, looking terrified. "Is she going to be all right, Dakota?" Mackenzie asked nervously.

Dakota choked on dry air, which only worried him more. If  _he_  couldn't even breathe right now, how was  _Gwen_  supposed to? "She'll be..." Dakota couldn't lie. Looking at Gwen, he had  _no idea_  if she would be all right. "Let's just get her to the medics, okay, Mackenzie?"

She nodded, gulping down tears, and put the stretcher next to Gwen. Dakota picked her up and laid her in it on her side, so that the  _pilum_  wouldn't get wedged in more. He was _so careful_. But despite his best efforts, she woke up again, gasping in pain. "Kota... It  _hurts_..."

"It's  _okay_ , Gwen," he insisted. Funny how he couldn't lie to Mackenzie, but he could lie to Gwen. Maybe that was because Gwen's life was on the line, and Dakota was going to make sure that she suffered as little as possible. That she was scared as little as possible. "Everything's going to be okay." He was reassuring himself as much as her, but Gwen didn't seem to mind. She smiled at him weakly, and then her eyes drooped shut.

Mackenzie let out a sob. "She's still alive!" he told her, half-annoyed. "Now stop bawling and grab that end!"

Mackenzie nodded balefully and picked up the side with Gwen's feet while Dakota gently lifted her head. Together, they hurried forward as fast as they could while being incredibly cautious. "The game is won!" Dakota heard from somewhere overhead. "Assemble for honors!" He couldn't believe anyone was still celebrating. Gwen was... Gwen was  _dying_. There. He'd admitted it. She was _dying_. And everybody around him was  _happy_. It seemed impossible. It seemed insane. It seemed flat-out  _cruel_. No one should be excited while Gwen was in danger.

Luckily, it was easy to hurry out of the fortress. Everyone had already assembled outside, which was good because Dakota thought he probably would have stabbed anyone who got in his way. "Help!" he shouted as they brought Gwen out. But no one heard him. They were too busy cheering.

Dakota's curly hair practically bristled in anger.  _Gwen was dying, and people were cheering_. He summoned all of the excess energy he'd built up from years of Kool-Aid and thrust it into a new yell.  _"Help!"_

Finally, people took notice. A few people rushed forwards. At first, Dakota thought they were gawking spectators and nearly yelled at them before he realized that they were medics. Medics, _finally_. But were they too late?

The medics spoke, and in some back corner of his brain, Dakota realized that they wanted him to put Gwen's stretcher on the grass. He complied, and then took a quarter-step back and looked down at Gwen's pale skin. She wasn't usually so pale, or still, or quiet. She was usually tan, alive, and full of energy. This was bad.  _This was_ so _bad._

"No, no, no..." The voice sounded like Frank, but Dakota didn't bother looking up to confirm. All that mattered was Gwen. All he cared about was Gwen.

The medics forced everyone backwards, but Dakota only moved a few inches. If Gwen needed him again, he would be here.

The medics did medic-y stuff - tried to give Gwen nectar, tried to staunch the flow of blood with gauze, tried to use powdered unicorn horn to heal her - but Dakota didn't pay close attention. He was too busy staring at Gwen's pale face. _Wake up, Gwen_ , he begged.  _Please, open your eyes. You're my best friend, and... And maybe even more than that. You_ have _to wake up. Please._

One of the medics looked up, looked at Reyna with pain in his eyes.  _No. Stop. Don't say it - don't say_  anything.  _Gwen is_  going  _to be all right_.

In the end, the medic didn't say anything. He just shook his head.

Dakota's breath caught hard in his throat, cutting through his esophagus like a knife. He was choking on his own air. If Gwen couldn't breathe, then neither would he.

He would have collapsed, but he was frozen in place. His entire world had just been chopped into pieces, diced with a knife as sharp and unforgiving as... Well, as Death. There was nothing more sharp and unforgiving than Death.

After a shock like that, Dakota didn't know if he would ever be able to move again. Styx, he didn't know if he would ever be able to  _breathe_  again.

"There will be an investigation. Whoever did this, you cost..." Reyna's voice swept through Dakota's ears like the noise in a conch shell. The words sounded vaguely interesting, but Dakota couldn't process what they meant.

Reyna continued to speak, but her words faded into an unintelligible  _whoosh_. Dakota could hear his blood moving in his ears. He could feel his lungs aching, begging for air. But Dakota couldn't open his mouth to breathe. Gwen's death had broken his vital systems, kept them from working properly. Breathing had stopped being subconscious and natural. It would take effort for him to force new air into his lungs, and at the moment, Dakota didn't have the energy to try. So his lungs burned. So what? Gwen was  _gone_.

Maybe one of Dakota's bodily functions was still working after all. Tears were leaking out of the corners of his eyes, streaming down his cheeks, and dotting his shirt. But he didn't care. His shirt was already covered with blood anyway - Gwen's blood. A bit of water didn't matter.

The pain in Dakota's lungs sharpened. He wanted to gulp in air, but he couldn't find the willpower.  _Please, Gwen,_  he thought.  _I literally can't live without you. I_ need _you. Just... Wake up? Please? For me? And more importantly, for yourself?_

Gwen stayed as pale as the steel knife that seemed to be stabbing Dakota in the heart and the lungs simultaneously. She was  _dead_. The medics had said so. Dakota could see it with his watering blue eyes. And then...

Suddenly, she wasn't dead anymore. She gasped. The medic had shaken his head, but Gwen had just  _gasped_. She was breathing. She was conscious.

In other words, she was  _alive_.

Dakota sighed in pure relief. And that was how he discovered that once he was sure Gwen would be okay, his vital systems had restarted - and suddenly, Dakota had been able to breathe again too.

* * *


End file.
